Saturday, February 27, 2010
Diana sent me more star strip samples for We Meet In Dreams, which I will try to attach to this entry. I am so very pleased with them. She wrote:
“Now that I succeeded in establishing the "look" I want for the "Star Strips" I now have to get the filter I'm using (for the etched look) to look just right when I make the strip the right size. This involves several steps in Photoshop - setting the tone levels to the right degree of density so that the black areas will look densely black, the white areas will "pop" with whiteness and the gray areas will have enough variation to look interesting... and a little dimensional.
Right now I'm on the 5th page of experiments. Every little variation shifts the "look" dramatically. They're pretty close in "look" but if printed on paper there are differences more easily seen than on screen.
I'll attach the document of my experiments thus far - not because I need input but just so you can see what I'm doing. There's no point in saying one looks better than another. I'm looking at them with eyes of experience, knowing that one will look better after being printed in a book than the others... the little nuances perhaps make more sense to me than someone who isn't a designer, is what I am respectfully suggesting. I should probably not be spending so much time fine tuning, but I'm trying to define my steps as precisely as possible so the series will be as similar as possible. With fine dot patterns like this, it's a bit tedious but I feel like I'm pretty close to moving on with the others.”
I thought the cloud strips Diana used for the previous book, Realms of Light, were fantastic - but these are perhaps even more magical. If that is possible. Diana and I have gone back and forth about ideas for the cover of We Meet in Dreams, but I think we have finally settled on the night sky and no human beings. Although the title implies human beings, so I am thinking there should at least be the outline of a house ... I am seeing a farmhouse, on the left or centered under the starry sky. A few trees. I wrote Diana with my ideas, and will have to wait for her answer.
I trust her judgement entirely on such matters. We have disagreed on very few things, and eventually have always come to a consensus. In my view, the answer must please us both - or it is not the answer.
On technical matters, I always bow to her expertise.
Printed up the pages of starscapes Diana sent, so I can admire them at leisure - and whenever I wish. More snow today, white everywhere. If I were not so busy with other things, I could write many poems about the beauty of the snow ... I have another concert coming up, this time all Domenico Scarlatti - almost an entire volume’s worth, and I had better practice. I found a new, late fugue to add on to the concert - and must learn all the notes before March 14th.
Sunday, March 7
Since Diana has now put a halt to formatting Visits With Angels, in order to work on the graphics for We Meet in Dreams - I basically have a forced vacation from the books. As she progresses Diana will send me sample sheets of her graphics, but no text corrections until she is done with this new work. Which leaves me free to think of other writing projects.
Went through a stack of old letters earlier tonight, letters from all over the world, in thin and thick envelopes with wonderful stamps and post markings. Some I answered, some I had already answered - and some I had not even opened. Made a small pile of the unopened letters and slowly went through them, savoring them. I enjoy all the various inks and scripts and slants, and sizes and thicknesses of paper, basically treat them as works of art. Some letters were very sad, some happy. But all were personal thoughts and feelings written down and folded either hastily or carefully - and then wrapped in a chosen envelope and sent afar, in my direction. In this age of instant communication, I find the process of handwritten communication as important and as memorable as ever. One letter is here on my computer table, in a scrawling handwriting in black ink; Ithaca is spelled incorrectly. The Liberty Bell stamp is a bit askew, although the postmark is perfectly placed; the return address takes up most of the cover, my address has been placed in the lower right corner. Unusual. Inside are xeroxed photographs of someone’s family, everyone labeled either on the photograph or in the margins; a message on a separate sheet wished me a holy and joyous Christmas and said, “Thank you”. I no longer know what this person is thanking me for, but I will respond and also apologize for my delay. Some of the are in French, one from Mauritius and the others from France. Over the years I have noticed that each country has its own handwriting, and then the personal variations of penmanship from each writer. The contents of letters vary greatly, and often I receive letters in French from immigrants living in our country or other English-speaking countries, each letter with its own beautiful, sad story.
I feel so honored to receive these letters and stories, and requests for prayers from people I will never meet in person - yet lives and silent voices I feel so deeply. In these stacks and piles of envelopes are now my own vivid and half-forgotten memories of sometimes only a few scrawled words asking for help - other times repeated letters from the same person; someone from Benin or Ghana now living in Queens, or in Manhattan or Brooklyn, feeling lost and wanting to return to their homeland and family. And then the letters stop, and I am left wondering if the thread of their lives have somehow come together, if these simple and wonderful people are sitting at a new table writing letters, or having breakfast and looking out a new window ... in a friendlier, safer street or town or city. And I am sure these writers have no idea that they still live in my memory and in my Heart, and at times that thought can bring me to a certain sadness. Sadness because I wish them to know how vividly I remember them and their story, that I still care about them, and that my Love is abiding. And then I wonder if my past letters in any way conveyed that, and hope they did ... but fear that they did not.
Well, one day we will all meet in another realm, and there will be many smiles of joyous recognition. Tonight I again ask that angels help and protect those who have written to me - look after them. And all who need help and protection, comforting, guidance ...